


White Noise

by Chiyume



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Angelic Grace, Castiel in the Bunker, Couch Cuddles, Couch Sex, Dom Dean, Dom Dean Winchester, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Enochian, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Frottage, Grace Kink, Hand Jobs, Home Alone, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Movie Night, Phrase Prompt, Sub Castiel, Television Watching, Tumblr Prompt, alone in the bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 19:29:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6342115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiyume/pseuds/Chiyume
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Cas have been granted the bunker for themselves over the weekend when Dean makes an interesting discovery regarding Castiel's grace and the bunker's TV reception... </p><p> </p><p>Prompt: “Writer’s preference” so I picked two: “I swear it was an accident.” and “It could be worse.”<br/>Enjoy some Enochian seasoned Grace!Kink smut, because that’s what “writer’s preference” will get you ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	White Noise

It was a Friday night, and Dean and Castiel were lying snuggled up on the couch in the bunker, watching TV.

Sam was not home, having graciously left the bunker over the weekend to give the two of them some not-so-subtly hinted alone time.

“You’re all but dry humping each other at the breakfast table, Dean,” he had declared firmly that very same afternoon, already heading for the door with his backpack slung over his shoulder. “Trust me, it’ll be the healthiest option for all of us if I just… stay out for a few days.”

“I promise I’ll pay you back,” Dean had offered after him, but Sam had just grimaced.

“ _ Don’t _ ,” he said firmly. “Just, don’t  _ ever  _ let me hear about  _ anything  _ that happens around here while I’m gone, and you can consider us even.”

With the entire bunker to themselves, the possibilities were suddenly endless, and Dean was literally itching for some physical contact. Normally, they would have been confined to the limited space of their own (formerly Dean’s) bedroom, but there were no such restrictions now. The mere fact that they technically could get it on anywhere they wanted was more than enough to send Dean’s pulse racing.

Castiel, on the other hand, didn’t show any signs of having grasped this new, highly important concept of being home alone. He was just lying there with his head resting on Dean’s arm, back snuggled close and intimate against Dean’s front without  _ any  _ kinds of regard towards Dean’s libido.

Dean was not a patient man by default, and being forced to lie there, feeling every single movement of Castiel’s body when the other shifted on the cushions was  _ torture _ . Slowly, he let his hand sneak around the curve of the other man’s waist, wrapping his fingers around Castiel’s hip to rock him back, grinding against him suggestively. Dean was already sporting a semi inside his boxers, and he needed to get Castiel to realize that they really should be doing something completely different other than watching TV right now.

When his groin pressed in against Castiel’s backside, Cas hummed, his hand wrapping over Dean’s fingers, halting him.

“I’m watching the movie,” he murmured, making Dean snort.

“You can watch it some other time,” he argued, nuzzling his nose against Castiel’s neck.

“I want to know how it ends,” Castiel objected. “Be patient.”

Dean huffed out an offended breath against Castiel’s ear, but then he smirked, wiggling his fingers out from underneath Castiel’s grip to slide them suggestively along the hem of the angel’s suit pants.

“Dean…” Castiel muttered.

“Just keep watching the movie,” Dean purred. “Wouldn’t want you to miss out on anything, now would we?”

Castiel grumbled something Dean couldn’t hear, shifting his weight on the couch, but he didn’t move away. Dean took that as an indication that he had a green light to continue; a chance he wasn’t about to renounce anytime soon.

His fingers found Castiel’s belt buckle, slipping the leather out of the loop with well practiced movements. Castiel’s eccentric reluctance to wear anything other than his three piece suit and trench coat had been infuriating at first—seriously, the damn thing took way too long to remove—but by now Dean had gotten used to it. 

Thankfully, Cas had already removed his trenchcoat and jacket earlier in order for them to get more comfortable on the couch, making Dean’s current mission a lot easier to accomplish.

Castiel didn’t make any move to stop him when Dean continued to pull Castiel’s zipper down, and when Dean snaked his hand through the opening he felt a throbbing pulse of heat shoot through him when he found the other already half hard inside his underwear.

He pulled Castiel’s slacks down to hang on the other’s hips, leaving the white boxers on to cover Castiel’s growing erection. Making a point not to go anywhere near the angel’s arousal, he then resumed the slow rocking against Castiel’s ass, smoothing his hand up to snake it underneath Castiel’s white dress shirt. 

When his fingers skirted the edge of a hard nipple, Castiel let out a soft sigh, pushing back slightly against Dean’s body in the flickering light of the TV.

Dean smirked, but moved his hand away. He ghosted a kiss against the nape of Castiel’s neck, moving his lips until they brushed along the the edge of the other’s ear, provoking a gratifying shiver.

“You’re right, Cas,” he murmured softly. “This movie really is interesting.”

Castiel nodded, and Dean could feel the gulp of the other’s throat when Cas swallowed.

The light from the screen flitted as Dean raked his fingernails down the front of Castiel’s chest, and Castiel squirmed beneath the touch, breath hitching. When Dean’s fingers wrapped around Castiel’s clothed cock, the television set gave a loud buzz, drowning out Castiel’s moan as the image rolled up and down the screen in a violent fluctuation.

Dean halted, throwing a suspicious glance at the TV. Keeping his eyes locked onto the screen, he tightened the grip of his fingers. Squeezing, he then watched with growing realization how the image fizzled and dissolved before his vision.

Letting his gaze slowly slide from the TV to Castiel, his lips quirked up into a wolfish grin.

He began by exploring with his mouth, nibbling at the lobe of Castiel’s ear and suckling soft, bruising kisses over the side of the other man’s neck. His actions caused Castiel to groan under his breath, but brought on only a minor flicker to the screen. The flicker was then met with the addition of a quiet, electric buzz when Dean added a graze of teeth to the angel’s skin.

He curled in closer, twisting the arm under Castiel’s head until Castiel was lying flush against his chest; leaving Dean’s unoccupied hand free to wrap around and roam over the span of Castiel’s torso. Trailing his hand over Castiel’s hardened nipples through the thin cotton shirt made the entire image roll across the screen, cutting the sound of completely and leaving Castiel’s moan resounding loud and clear in the sudden silence.

Dean was having the time of his life. When he slowly reached inside Castiel’s boxers to stroke slowly over Castiel’s tenting erection, the image turned snowy as white noise filled up the screen, much to Dean’s delight.

“How are you doing that?” he mumbled, smiling, thrusting loosely against Castiel’s ass.

“It’s not on purpose…” Castiel answered shakily, tipping his head back against Dean’s chest. “I can’t— I can’t control it…”

Dean’s smile widened, and he brought a hand down to pinch lightly at Castiel’s chest, causing both the screen and Castiel’s breath to stutter.

“It’s your grace, isn’t it?” he hummed. “Am I ruffling your feathers, angel?”

Castiel groaned, as if the mere thought of Dean’s hands on his wings made his head spin.

“Does it mean that you like it?” Dean asked with a quiet moan, already guessing the answer. “That you enjoy having my hand on your cock?”

“Yes…!” Castiel panted, gasping when Dean’s hand immediately picked up speed below his waistline. 

“You really ought to have more self control,” Dean whispered teasingly against the shell of Castiel’s ear, tightening his grip around the other’s chest to hold him in place. “Being a celestial being and all…”

“I’m an angel,” Castiel grated out, turning his head to give Dean a dirty glare from the corner of his eye. “Not a saint…”

“Oh, don’t I know it…” 

Dean pushed his hips forward a bit harder, letting out a quiet groan as he trapped his own hard cock in between their bodies, and Castiel’s eyes fluttered shut with a sigh as he pushed right back.

They didn’t speak much more after that. It didn’t take long before Dean was steadily rocking himself against Castiel’s body, dry humping him from behind with one leg hooked over Castiel’s own to keep the angel from squirming away.

Castiel was panting hard, his breaths shaking apart with every wicked slide of Dean’s fingers, his cock slickening the way with precome beading at the slit. His hips were twitching; frantic, desperate little convulsions caused by his own inability to remain still while Dean worked them both closer, grunting and growling against the back of Castiel’s neck.

When Dean added a twist to the upstroke of Castiel’s dick, Cas threw his head back with a ragged moan, grappling for Dean’s forearm with one hand while the other clutched hard around the edge of the couch. He jerked and wriggled, writhing in Dean’s arms, burying the side of his face into the cushion below as a pleading whimper blubbered past his lips. 

“ _ Zacar… Noib… Dean, ipam, olani gil… _ ” 

The broken murmurs reached Dean’s ear, winding their way down his spine in a whisper that had every single hair on his body standing on end. 

Fuck, he loved it when Cas spoke in Enochian. As if the sentiment that Cas was so lost in sensation that he didn’t even realize that he wasn’t speaking English anymore wasn’t enough, the force of the words themselves also rippled with pure, physical pleasure as they fluttered over Dean’s skin. 

Like lips, or hands… Or wings.

The thought has Dean gritting his teeth against the back of Castiel’s neck, his breathing ragged and torn when the force of Castiel’s grace rolled over him once again, like a wave building up to crest before crashing against the shore. 

By now the screen of the TV was completely unreadable, white noise the only thing visible as Castiel shivered and shook against Dean’s body. His hips thrusted into Dean’s hand, his fingers clutching at the cushion and around Dean’s arm with whiteknuckled fingers. 

“ _ Ipam… _ ” he begged, voice rising into a wince. “ _ Ipam, Dean, ipam…! _ ” 

Dean’s breath caught in his throat and he shoved his hips forward, grinding hard against Castiel’s ass while he buried a hoarse cry against Castiel’s shoulder, cock twitching as his release dribbled out and soaked the front of his jeans. 

He felt Castiel lock up in his arms, caught in a moment of breathless bliss before following him over the edge with a gasp mere seconds later. The angel’s climax coated his fingers, smearing against the insides of Castiel’s boxers when Castiel’s groan filled his ears, and on the other side of the room, the TV promptly exploded, sending white, blinding sparks skittering all over the floor with a sizzling bang.

For a split second the room was lit up like in the middle of the day, and then the rest of the bunker’s lights flickered and died, plummeting them both into thick, pitch black darkness.

Dean blinked, trying to focus his vision through the lingering haze of his orgasm, gulping down air into his lungs while bright spots danced in front of his eyes in the sudden blackout.

Castiel’s back was heaving against his chest, and Dean felt hair tickle the side of his cheek when the angel raised his head, without a doubt staring at the darkness in bewildered shock.

“Nice party trick,” Dean panted, the gush of his breath making the other’s limbs give a violent quake. 

“I swear,” Castiel breathed, swallowing down a groan. “That part was pure accident.”

Dean let out a chuckle, rubbing his forehead against Castiel’s shoulder.

“Oh well, I guess it could have been worse,” he offered. 

“How?” Castiel grated, thudding his head back down against the couch with an incredulous snort.

“Look at it this way…” Dean grinned, nuzzling his nose suggestively along the edge of Castiel’s ear. “Now we’re probably gonna have to get a bit more…  _ creative  _ in order to pass the time around here.”

“Is that so?” Castiel’s voice smiled back.

“Oh yes,” Dean agreed heartily. “In fact, I think we better start with the creative thinking right away. As soon as we get the power back, that is…” he added, as an afterthought. He could do without power for a while; they had candles to light up the place until morning should they have to. Though, he had to admit, a shower right about now would have been nice…  

Castiel didn’t answer him, but Dean heard the quiet huff of the other’s laugh through the darkness when the angel twisted around to press a slow, promising kiss against his lips, fingertips trailing lightly down the length of Dean’s arm.

Oh, what the heck, he thought to himself. 

A little candle light never hurt anybody.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feel free to leave a comment if you liked it :)  
> Have a great day! <3


End file.
